Blessings

DH

Living with Christ

Saturday's in p.j.'s with Savannah

to read a great book

a crackling fire in the hearth

Hanging with my sister Les

Our rituals at the beach-Dad's beignets, French Toast at Don Pedro's, Nick's on the Bay, Evening sunsets, S'mores every night, Mexican train dominoes, bike rides to the market, checking to see if the wash-out is open, reading a good mystery, Shaved ice from Frosty Bites, sticky rice and Won-ton soup from Royal Orchid, swinging on the front porch, going to the library, listening to great music LOUD, rain on the tin roof, laughing until we're crying, Savannah on the top bunk

travel

Receiving Mom's letters

a clean sink

Super John

Music I'm listening to...

Shovels & Rope

Music from Wes Anderson

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Tuesday, September 23, 2014

SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

John Keats died in Rome on 23 February 1821 and was buried in the protestant cemetery in Rome. His last request was to be placed under a tombstone bearing no name or date, only the words, "Here lies One whose Name was writ in Water." Severn and Brown erected the stone, which under a relief of a lyre with broken strings, includes the epitaph:

"This Grave / contains all that was Mortal / of a / Young English Poet / Who / on his Death Bed, in the Bitterness of his Heart / at the Malicious Power of his Enemies / Desired / these Words to be / engraven on his Tomb Stone: / Here lies One / Whose Name was writ in Water. 24 February 1821"

Thursday, October 31, 2013

With cooler weather arriving, it is time to curl up in front of the fire with a cup of tea or cocoa and select a nice thick book to read. It's funny how I read more non-fiction in the cooler months and save the fluff for summer. Two of three of these books are non-fiction and I am truly looking forward to reading them all.

Nora Ephron, who passed away just in 2012, has a compilation of many of her works collected in TheMost of Nora Ephron. What an amazing writer who brought us many humorous and unforgettable stories.

And if you have read my blog from the beginning, you know what a huge Pat Conroy fan I am. I believe he is one of the best writers out there today. He tends to write about my life, the people I grew up with and people who surround me. The South in all it's perfect beauty and hidden shame. The Death of Santini: The Story of a Father and His Son.

The third, Behind the Shattered Glass, is a continuation of a fun, cozy mystery series and is always enjoyable to visit with the characters again.

Happy Autumn and Happy Reading!

p.s. Just finished reading This House is Haunted by John Boyne and thoroughly enjoyed it. Very Dickensian!

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Every year when the weather turns cooler, I dig out Fall decorations and pull out books that I enjoy reading this time of year. There are books that need to be read or re-read by the fire or somewhere you can smell the burning leaves and the cool night air catches your breath.

One of those books for me is Washington Irving's The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. It has all of the Autumn requirements. What's your favorite Fall reading?